The After Life
by Still-insomniareader
Summary: A Short story set during the time the story of Macbeth took place. Except it is set in Heaven. From the point of view of the Bleeding Sergent.


The After Life

Most would think that once your dead, you don't feel anything. Well they're wrong. I am most certainly dead, and I am most certainly bored. Boredom is a feeling, right? I wouldn't be bored if St. Peter would let me through the gates, but no, 'You can't enter these gates until all the members of your pitiful drama have been accounted for'. Whatever that meant. So now I just sit here waiting. For future reference: Spitting off a cloud, not as much fun as you would think.

Hearing a ruckus I turned, glancing at the gates I noticed some one familiar, King Duncan. I picked my self up, not having anything else to do, and wondered over. When I was close enough I could here some of the King's argument. "A King, and I demand to be treated like one. I wish to enter either Heaven or Hell, which ever it maybe that I've qualified for!"

A tired looking St. Peter responded, "I understand your plight, King Duncan, but you must wait along with the Bleeding man over there. At least until your 'company' arrives. I'm not allowed to allow in fictional characters until all that are to die, die."

"What do you mean by fictional?" I ask. "Are these wounds fictional? Do I bleed fictional blood? I think not!"

"Aye, I'm with the red man." Duncan nodded.

"I can't help you, these are the rules." Turning Peter let in two men, neither of which I recognized, but apparently Duncan did.

"Hey, that's not fair, those where my guards! Lovely job they did, but all the same, if we're fictional than they must be too."

"Be that as it may, they are minor characters. They don't warrant waiting."

"That's discrimination!" A poor comeback, I know, but come on... I'm dead, so sue me.

"Yeah, yeah, take it up with the complaints department. Good luck trying to get you case heard. They never get a break, what with all the prayers they have to sort." By the end, St. Peter was mumbling. Quite rude if you ask me.

Realizing the conversation was over, I walked over to my cloud and plopped down. A second later I felt Duncan sit down beside me.

"How long have you been here?" He asked.

"Not too long, maybe a day or so. How did you die? I remember seeing you, your looked healthy to me."

"That bloody bastard Macbeth. He and his hellion of a wife murdered me." I looked at Duncan and saw his lip curled in contempt. I could tell he was mad.

"I mean really. I'm King and they kill me, but do they get caught? No they go tra-la-la off to their room then are all _upset_ when I'm found dead." He had gotten up and started pacing. "Why weren't they caught? I mean all the evidence was there, granted it framed the guards, but if one had looked close enough. It pointed directly at Macbeth!" It was at about this time when Banquo arrived. But unlike Duncan he didn't make a fuss. He just wondered over and sat beside me, watching King Duncan also.

"Didn't anyone care? My sons fled, casting themselves into suspicion. A true King stands!" I stopped listening again. I figured that he was just entertaining himself by now. Banquo and I started conversing. It was strange how men, who seemed large and powerful, acted when they where dead. He didn't act better than me, we where the same.

"I DEMAND TO BE LET IN! I've died, just like everyone else, and I wish to be let in these gates!" I turned, not recognizing the female, but figure she was from our party, since she wasn't being let in.

"Who is that?" I whispered towards Banquo.

He glanced at me for a second, "Lady Macbeth, unfortunately. Never before have I wished that someone so mean be alive, not dead."

It was at this time, that she noticed us. "Oh, I should have guessed it. This has all your handwriting on it!" I didn't know who she was talking to but I guess it didn't matter since she just turned and sat a good ten feet away from the rest of us.

Duncan, slightly distracted by the Lady, returned to his rant. "And why weren't my sons at my funeral? They should have been there!"

Strangely, we sat there for another few hours before our final compatriot graced us with his presence.

I hadn't really known him from when I was alive. I only reported on his results in battle. His boots where shined to perfection, but his pants were not. They where splattered in blood. It was strange, in his hands, was his head. And it was talking.

"I am King Macbeth! I demand to be let in to the kingdom of heaven!" The Head ranted, it swung around, using his hands as a podium. "I am the bloody King of Scotland!"

This set off Duncan. "No my not-so-good sir. I am the King of Scotland. You are a scoundrel, a thief and a shame on your family that will stain for centuries to come. Even if none survive. You shall be the story that royal families tell their children to behave."

The rest of us walked over, to watch the two kings battle a war of words. Lady Macbeth naturally stood by her lords side. "That may be but I sir was born a king, and I died one! That I may hold to my name. You where born a wailing little babe!"

"That is a horrible comeback! We where both born wailing babes. And if anyone was born a king it was I, I was born a prince." Placing his hand on his chest he turned to see if he had anyone supporting him. Banquo and I where near him, so he took that as our loyalty.

"Ah, your all here, finally." The interruption startled the two kings. "Good, now I can sort you, heaven and hell. Now whomever thinks it's heaven their destined for, stand to my right, hell the left.

Lady and Lord Macbeth stood to the right, and so did Duncan. Banquo and I just stood there, in the middle. I don't know why he didn't move, but I didn't move because I didn't know where I belonged.

"Lovely." Whispered St. Peter. With a black puff Lord and Lady Macbeth disappeared. King Duncan was left standing.

"Where did they go?" He looked kind of nervous.

"To hell of course, do you think I would have let them into heaven do you?" He chuckled. "You don't have any say over where you go in the after life."

"Well them why did you let us chose?" Now the king looked confused.

"Think of it like the Egyptians. I weighed your heart to see where you belong. Now, my dear Duncan. You don't belong in heaven." Before Duncan could protest, St. Peter went on. "Nor do you belong in hell. Your one of the few who belong in the Asphodel Meadows, an ordinary place." With a slight pop he vanished. No poof, kind of boring in my opinion.

"Now, you two... why didn't you pick either heaven or hell?" He looked amused.

I allowed Banquo to speak first. "Saint, It is not up to the commoner to say where the soldier must go. It is up to the lord." St. Peter nodded. With a bright light, Banquo was gone.

"Now, you sir, why didn't you chose?" This time he looked pensive.

"Frankly, my Lord, I didn't know where I belonged. I've done some good deeds in my life, but I've also done some bad. I've fought in war and killed many a man, but in said war I saved many a lives. So It isn't up to me, my lord. It's up to you. If I had to chose I suppose I belong in the Asfod Meadows or whatever." I finished with a shrug.

He started laughing, I was baffled. "Sergeant, you belong in heaven. I do not mean to offend you by laughing, it's just I haven't met anyone so modest in a long time. Go on in." With a wave of his hand, I saw a bright light and then nothing. I just felt bliss.


End file.
